


Stocktake

by Haldane



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/pseuds/Haldane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase has a task to complete, in a rather empty part of the hospital after hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stocktake

A hospital at night can be an unsettling environment. Other public buildings may be empty and docile out of hours, but hospitals by their nature are never completely still. Some departments look much the same as they do in the daytime, but the areas not required around the clock turn off their main lights, and certain corridors fall eerily silent. The atmosphere of these deserted areas is made worse, not better, by the knowledge that elsewhere in the building there are lights and people.

Chase sat on the floor of a room at the end of one of these deserted corridors. With a sigh he turned his attention to the next-to-last shelf in the drugs cupboard. The clipboard in his hand had a long list of names and quantities, and the security discard container at his side was two-thirds full of out of date items. 

This task was the result of one smart comment too many. Aussies as a rule have little respect for rank, and Chase knew he was lucky to have found an overseas job with a boss who let you talk back to his face. At least up to a point; then you found yourself cleaning out the research lab drug cupboard after everyone else had gone home for the night. 

There were no windows in the room, but his body told him it was getting late. He tried not to think about the emptiness of the wing surrounding him. Chase never let on, but he hated the late-night mood of the hospital. Dull as the task was, he was not looking forward to finishing it, since his reward would be walking the full width of the premises to reach his car.

He shook himself and picked up a small tray holding a dozen vials. He would finish this, go home, and get some sleep. And tomorrow morning the hospital would be its normal buzzing self.

Chase startled at the clank of the door handle, twisting around to see the door swing open, then relaxed with a combination of relief and annoyance as House came in with his familiar hitch-and-step walk. 

"Hmm. I was expecting the door to be locked."

"Why?" Chase challenged automatically. "Am I supposed to be done already, or did you think I would nick off without doing it at all?"

"I thought you might be afraid of the bogeyman," House replied, raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes. "You might have locked yourself in for safety."

"Safety from whom? There's nobody out there, bogeyman or otherwise." Which was the problem, really. Chase ran his hand through his hair and tossed it back, a nervous mannerism he had never been able to completely overcome, despite the taunting it caused on occasion. 

Like now. "Trying to impress someone? With that sort of gesture, I keep expecting to find squads of vacant-headed cheerleaders pursuing you."

Chase had always believed that a person could not help assessing their workmates as possible bedmates, and those who thought differently were fooling themselves. Cameron was just too wholesome to consider in the same sentence as "sex", despite her looks, and Foreman so reserved Chase had no idea at all about his sex life or proclivities. House, now, House was interesting. Not handsome or particularly approachable, but distinctly interesting.

"Nah, empty between the ears doesn't do anything for me. I like a partner who has opinions and a bit of backbone." Chase kept his tone casual, but he was speaking the literal truth. He held the eye contact while the pause stretched out between them. 

"Opinions and backbone?" House limped further into the room, looking Chase up and down in open appraisal. Chase felt the first stirrings of excitement. "No," House shook his head, "You can't tell me you take orders all day here, and then want more of the same at home." He shifted voices into a bad falsetto. "Higher! Deeper! More! Less! Down, boy!"

Chase scowled. "Hey! There's kind of a difference between having sex with someone who knows what they want and saying 'yes, oh master.' while kissing your feet." He winced at the slip, hoping that House would miss it.

"Around here there's more ass-kissing than foot-kissing. Although 'yes, oh master' might be a nice change from 'Sure' next time I ask for some tests."

"If that's what you're into, I can recommend a place." Chase suggested helpfully. 

"Ah, at first it's okay, but it gets tedious when that's _all_ they say. I always wind up wanting to open their skulls and see if their brain's been removed."

"Wow. Now that's what I call an erotic image." Chase put on his best 'awed' expression. "Nothing like a craniectomy to get _my_ motor running." He glanced idly at the clipboard still in his hand. "So you want brains and backbone as well?" 

"Brains and backbone," House repeated thoughtfully, pursuing his lips and staring up at the ceiling. "More often found among doctors than cheerleaders, I would think."

"Will you stop it with the cheerleaders already? I never said I liked that kind of girl; in fact I don't like any kind of-" Chase cut himself off, appalled at what he'd almost said. Not that he was ashamed of it; but it wasn't the kind of thing you went around declaring out loud. There were still places where even a suspicion of such a preference would get you beaten up.

House stared levelly at the flustered young man. "As long as your actions while employed on the business of this hospital are professional, your orientation is irrelevant. At least that's what it says in the HR manual." He shook his head at Chase's expression. "What, you think you're the only one?"

Chase breathed a little more easily. But House was not finished. "You know some of the university teams have mixed cheer squads? You can go fishing for male cheerleaders, these days."

"Aaaaagh!" Chase buried his face in his hands, but somehow House's unrelenting banter made him feel better instead of worse. House was no bigot; he abused all races, creeds, and sexual orientations, equally. Since House was his immediate superior, his unchanged attitude was reassuring. "I don't want _any_ cheerleaders. Why are you so fixed on that particular group?"

"They're the American stereotype of pretty and brainless. Your blond looks are just the thing to attract them in droves. Although you should be careful; the other group you're likely to appeal to is surly old curmudgeons who just want to spank your ass."

"Maybe you've got that backwards." Chase waited to see the meaning get through to his boss, laughing inside when he saw that for once he had scored a direct hit. "Try finding a teenage cheerleader who knows how to deliver a decent spanking."

"Doctor Chase, do I understand you correctly? What gets your motor running is, to quote you, spanking and craniectomies. Do you have a priority between those?" House managed to say it with a straight face, and even look like he was waiting with interest for the answer.

"Given a choice, I'll take the spanking over watching a craniectomy. Although cleaning out old storerooms does come a close third."

House faked surprise. "Would you rather have been turned over the lap of a surly old curmudgeon and spanked sore than been assigned to stocktake the drug cupboard?"

"Depends on the curmudgeon. I can't stand old men who stink, but one with reasonable hygiene, now," and Chase took his turn at a provocative study of the man in front of him, adding significantly, "Beard stubble no objection, of course. Snarky and intelligent a definite plus."

"If I had known that this morning, I definitely would have taken it into account." House cocked his head and considered Chase, still seated on the floor, but beginning to hope that this might actually be going somewhere. "And still stuck you with the stocktake. Do you think I am going to hand out as punishment something you enjoy?" And with that he turned away, taking a couple of paces before stopping to swallow one of his tablets.

Chase's newborn hopes plummeted at the sight of the dispassionate back. "Well, Doctor House, is there anything else you wanted? You see, I have this terribly important stocktake to finish." He turned his own back, pointedly picking up his clipboard.

House limped over to an old examination couch and sat down, taking some time about making himself comfortable. "Now that you mention it, there is something you might be able to help me with. Do you know where I could find some blond pretty boy, with an ass that's crying out for a good spanking? Oh, and one that's not going to run too fast." He tapped his stick twice on the tiled floor.

Chase glanced over his shoulder, his expression astonished as House moved the flirtation up a definite notch. This was barely-deniable-pass stuff. His fair skin reddened with the involuntary blush he hated as he met his boss's predatory stare. "Vending machines all out?" he asked, as casually as possible. He turned back to work, almost able to feel the eyes running over his body. It was incredibly arousing, and he fell in with the game, bending more provocatively than necessary to examine the contents of the bottom shelf. 

"Ah, you know how it is by this time of night, all the good stuff is gone. Thought I'd try the storerooms instead."

"Well, you certainly can find all kinds of things in this one," Chase remarked, picking up a vial and noticing that it contained a drug the FDA had banned four years earlier. He tossed it into the disposal container. "I think I can help you, but let me finish this stocktake first or my boss might get cranky. Or crankier, rather. Cranky's his normal condition."

"Sounds like a right bastard. Besides, if you're working on an assigned task, you are engaged in hospital business and thus your actions are subject to review. Once you finish it, however, you're on your own time."

Chase completed the last shelf in bare minutes, conscious the entire time of the eyes watching him. He stood up at last, stretching his stooped back and rolling his shoulders. He was unprepared for the forceful hand between his shoulder blades, pressing him face down on the benchtop of the cupboard he had just finished sorting out. How the hell can he sneak up on me, what with the cane and all? Then the thought unravelled into oblivion as the hand slid down his spine and curved over his ass. 

"You said over your lap," Chase complained. "Lost your nerve?"

"Patience, pretty boy. You'll get what you're after." House's hand moved to stroke the front of Chase's groin, undoing the button and zip, sliding inside to fondle his hardening prick. The loose pants were jerked down to fall around his ankles, followed by his underwear. House then clamped one hand onto his shoulder and pulled him backwards towards the couch.

Once he was again seated, House had both hands free to twist Chase around and pull him down, as promised, directly across his lap, bare prick rubbing on fabric and only the white lab coat, still hanging normally, covering his ass. House took the coat's hem in one hand and slowly, tantalisingly slowly, pulled it up and then off, tossing it aside to leave Chase completely exposed.

"Spankable. Definitely spankable." House commented approvingly, stroking the pale curves displayed on his lap. "And no squealing. It hurts my ears." He lifted his hand, paused for another moment as Chase held his breath and almost whined with anticipation, then delivered a sharp smack straight across the middle.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Chase groaned blissfully and wriggled on House's lap, presenting an even more attractive sight and stimulating his own erection at the same time. "You've done this before," he gasped. "I can tell."

"Did you know..." smack "...that the piano..." smack "...is classified..." smack "...as a percussion..." smack "....instrument?" was the response. "Because..." smack "...in order to make it sound..." smack "...you strike it." 

Chase was keening continuously now, his buttocks covered with red flaring blotches, his erection pressing rock-hard into House's thigh. Smack. "You come on me and I'm sending you the dry cleaning bill." Smack.

"Okay." Chase managed. "No problem," and he rolled over. The change in position brought his inflamed skin into contact with the denim jeans House was wearing, the resulting sting so perfect that he just closed his eyes and savoured it. He wrapped his hand around his freed erection and began pulling on it.

"Sheesh!" House knocked his hand away, replacing it with his own. "Everybody thinks they're an expert these days." He then proceeded to demonstrate what could be done with twenty years' extra experience and the hands of a pianist. His hands stroked and squeezed, caressed and tickled, while Chase writhed across his legs, sweating and moaning, thinking, _my god, the best sex I've ever had and it's a hand job._

House seemed to hold him just short of his peak forever, working more intensely and then slacking off the pace, two, then three times. Chase was reduced to begging for it, or at least hoping that House would realise the muzzily gasped words were meant to be pleas. He knew it was House's decision when he came, frantically thrusting into the other's hand, the warm fingers remaining firmly wrapped around him until he was completely exhausted. House surveyed the mess with a certain amount of satisfaction, then passed him a couple of wipes from a box perched nearby. 

"Figures. You really are that pretty all over." 

"You betcha. It pays to be pretty these days, if you want to attract the better class of curmudgeon." House snorted with appreciation, while Chase caught his breath and sat up, trying not to appear too dizzy. He looked his boss straight in the eye. "Where do you want me to bend over?"

"What makes you think I want you to do that?" 

"Come on; you're giving it out for free? I'd rather pay you back now, trade for trade. And if you aren't interested, what's this?" Chase shifted his weight, pressing down with one hip on an unmistakable bulge in House's lap. 

"You're getting heavy," House replied, avoiding the question and pushing Chase off. But the younger man refused to give up that easily, and reached out with his hand, placing it firmly over the bulge and squeezing. 

" 'Payback' is not a good enough reason. Try again." But Chase noticed that his hand was left where it was. So, not a 'yes', but not a 'no' either.

"Besides..." Chase stopped, uncertain of how to continue.

House raised one eyebrow and waited, his expression offering no encouragement. Chase had the sudden quicksand feeling of trying to justify his stand that he had so often, after suggesting a diagnosis. He settled on telling the straight truth.

"I want you to."

"Now you're talking." House stood up, and turned Chase away from him, twisting one hand into his collar and placing his mouth close to Chase's ear. "Would I be correct, Doctor Chase, if I assume you prefer it a little on the rough side?" Chase shivered all over and nodded without speaking, loving the implied menace in the wiry body close behind him. The hand pulled upwards, until Chase had to rise onto his toes. "You want some masculine authority figure to bend you over and split you straight up the middle, after taking all normal precautions, of course."

Chase, still wordless, reached inside his jacket and produced a square plastic packet, handing it back over his shoulder. "How very foresighted of you." The packet was plucked from his hand, and then a shove sent him stumbling across the floor, to catch up against the couch they had just vacated. He could easily have straightened up, but instead remained sprawled on his belly, gasping. 

He was not left there alone for long. Strong hands grabbed his ass, running over the red handprints from the spanking and dipping into his crevice. One stroked his balls lightly and he pressed back into the touch, only to receive another smack. Then nothing. He heard the sound of a zipper and a rustle behind him, and bit his tongue to prevent a whimper of need. 

Chase snuck a peek back, and saw House's hand returning something to his jacket pocket. 

_House carries lube?_   
_He came in here to find me, but I'm the one who started the flirting..._   
_Wasn't I?_

Slick fingers probed more intently now, and Chase was trembling so hard he was glad he was already lying down, or he would have fallen. House's hands spread his cheeks apart as the two bodies closed. Chase felt the blunt thickness of an erect prick pushing at his entrance, slowly at first and then one solid shove that stretched him to just short of painful. House's body lay down over his, weight pressing him into the padding and hands either side of Chase's shoulders. 

Chase couldn't help but whimper then, a series of short 'ah ah ah' noises as House settled into his rhythm and thrust repeatedly into Chase's more than willing body. The heavy solid strokes were exactly the way he craved it, wrenching an "Oh god that's good," from him, no longer making any pretence of casual indifference.

House was breathing audibly through his mouth now, great gasping breaths like a runner finishing a race. Chase was moaning incoherently, pushing back into the other man's strokes. He regretted the necessity of the condom, but even with it he could feel it when House came, the satisfying fullness in him suddenly thrusting even faster and harder, and at the same time a long involuntary groan. It was too soon for him to be able to come again, but Chase still felt a burn of pleasure all the way out to the ends of his fingers and toes.

They lay locked together for a little while, as hearts slowed and breathing quietened. House of necessity had to pull back first, casually tossing the used condom into a regulation biowaste container before rearranging his clothes.

"How do I look?" he asked, indicating himself with a theatrical sweep of the arm not engaged with his walking stick.

"Um, same as always?" Chase ventured, a little baffled by his boss's unusual concern for his appearance. 

"Damn. We'll have to try harder, if we want to get any rumours started." He limped out the door without looking back, leaving Chase staring after him, with the familiar feeling of having gotten exactly the opposite response of what he had been expecting.

"Hey, wait! Are you heading for the carpark?" House paused, looked back, and nodded. "I'm such a pathetic little sub I'm scared to walk the corridors alone at night." Chase protested in a campy whine, then deftly dodged the stick swung at his head and laughed as the two men headed off together.


End file.
